


Pas de Trois

by a_lanart



Series: Mystery Verse [8]
Category: Highlander: The Series, Torchwood
Genre: Community: forbiddenawards, Crossover, Multi, POV First Person, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-21
Updated: 2009-11-21
Packaged: 2017-10-03 12:35:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_lanart/pseuds/a_lanart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three's not always a crowd, which is something that Ianto needs to learn...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pas de Trois

**Author's Note:**

> The term Pas de Deux is used in ballet to describe a duet, so a Pas de Trois would be a trio...  
> Written in 1st person.  
> Pas de Trois received a Forbidden Award in the Best Group category.
> 
> Disclaimer: Anyone/Anything you recognise is not mine. Belong to aunty beeb and Panzer/Davies  
> No copyright infringement intended, no profit made.
> 
> Contains m/m/m smut. Takes place after TKKS in S1 Torchwood, but before OoT.

~*~

Pas de Trois

*

"Three's not always a crowd."

When I heard those words I couldn't help the frantic leap of my heart in my chest, the sudden flare of hope that I quickly suppressed. I found it impossible to speak for a moment, but took the opportunity to pull my wrists from the hands that held me. I turned, slowly; unsure that I'd heard correctly. I met their eyes, hazel and blue, and knew without asking that I had heard what was said and not just what I needed, and was afraid, to hear. Deep down, part of me was still convinced that my touch meant death for anything I truly wanted and cared for. Jack had done his best to drive those thoughts away, but they were still there, eating away at me in the dark corners of my mind. Maybe, just maybe, in the company of the man who had been Death I would finally be able to accept them as part of me and not something to be afraid of acknowledging. I took a deep breath; I needed it, I felt like I was about to drown.

"Do you really mean that? Both of you?" Jack's answering smile was blinding as he nodded silently, living for the moment and not looking beyond it for anything else, or not that I could tell anyway. My eyes drifted to Methos, skin still tingling from the press of his fingers against the scar on my wrist. He met my eyes with a calculating glance, and for a moment I could see every one of his 5000 years, everything he had been, both loved and loathed; he was Methos and there was no pretence any more. I found myself desperately wanting the opportunity to peel away some of those layers, to discover the man and not just the legend, to lay bare part of the mystery of him. I don't know how much of that he saw, but his smile was like the sun coming out from behind a cloud and just as uncomplicated in its beauty.

"Oh we mean it all right, Ianto." He said, and whether I was imagining things or not, I could *hear* the promises in his voice. I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry.

"Oh. Right." I said, and flicked a quick glance back at Jack. His smile was warm and full of understanding of what it felt like to be broadsided by nothing more than a few words spoken in a particular tone. Then he winked at me, and I wanted to laugh. Two could play that game, and though Methos had become an increasingly important part of our lives, Jack and I understood each other very well indeed; words were not always required. I fought to reclaim some of my equanimity, and let a smile escape. "In that case, why are we wasting time?" Jack grabbed for all our coats, knowing in advance what I intended, as I reached for their hands and dragged them out of the pub.

We nearly fell in an ungainly tangle of arms and legs once we were outside as I managed to trip over an uneven paving slab in my haste. Jack chuckled as I stumbled into Methos's arms, where I was held for far longer than was strictly necessary in order for me to regain my balance. It was discomforting to hear Jack's chuckle die as he watched us stare at each other, but nowhere near as discomforting as the arms around me and the hazel eyes that bored into my own. My breathing hitched and I realised I was shaking. I wanted. I needed. I *burned*. Methos made an unintelligible noise in the back of his throat, which sounded more like a growl than anything else, and we leaned closer only to be broken apart by an unsubtle cough from Jack. Methos gently released me with a sigh and a resigned expression, and I whirled around to be met by Jack holding out our coats and grinning fit to split his face. He had a point; standing on a pavement in Cardiff city centre wasn't the ideal place to take this any further. I grabbed my coat from him and ducked my head to avoid meeting his eyes, I already knew what I'd see there and I wasn't sure that right now I could cope with it. I was feeling raw, exposed and unbelievably horny. A gentle squeeze to my shoulder after I'd struggled back into my coat and another barely heard chuckle from Jack acknowledged all of those things. I darted a glance at Methos, his face was impassive as he shrugged into his coat, but his eyes were dancing enough to belie the expression.

"The hotel's this way," he announced as he strode off, throwing a grin back over his shoulder at us two slowcoaches. Jack grabbed my hand and we followed willingly, with me tingling with anticipation in places I'm not sure I knew I'd possessed. Jack squeezed my fingers as we hurried to catch up Methos, it felt like both reassurance and promise. We grinned at each other in silent agreement; Methos wouldn't have this all his own way if either of us could possibly help it.

Methos hadn't chosen one of the more ostentatious hotels, which didn't particularly surprise me, even though it was still a place where I would never have been able to stay. Torchwood paid well, but not that well, and I felt more than a little out of place as we waited for the lift, which Jack noticed.

"You're worth it," he said as he threw an arm oh-so-casually around my shoulders.

"You're *both* worth it," added Methos with a twinkling smile, and a slight tilt of his head as if he was trying to get a different angle on things. "At least I hope you will be..."

"For that, old man, we should make sure you're not capable of walking out of here."

"Never make promises you can't keep, Harkness." The lift pinged its arrival which curtailed any further comments. Jack steered me into the empty car, arm still around me, and settled us into the corner. Methos took station on the adjoining wall after pressing the button for the relevant floor. I watched Jack glance around the lift, examining the positions of the mirrors.

"Don't even think about it," I warned him. He looked almost petulant.

"But Ianto..."

"No."

"We could even..."

"No." There was a muffled snort from Methos's direction.

"What?" asked Jack. Methos leaned his head back against the wall of the lift and grinned.

"He's obviously had more practice in saying no to you than I have." His eyes lighted on me. "Ianto, you're a stronger man than I am." I wished he hadn't said it as of course I couldn't help but remember all the times I hadn't said 'no' to Jack. I think I managed not to blush, but I know something must have shown on my face as Methos turned his face away from me with a knowing smile.

"I think the word you're looking for is stubborn," countered Jack; he obviously hadn't been looking at my face. I protested, just for the sake of it, I knew he would be expecting it.

"Excuse me, I am not stubborn."

"How about determined, then?" He offered; I nodded.

"Determined. Yes, I'll live with that."

"Not implacable?" Methos suggested, from his spot against the wall. The tone was light, but there was a hard edge in his eyes.

"I can be." I said, meeting his eyes. "Sometimes it's necessary."

"To strive for, or to strive against?" He asked. I shrugged as best I could,

"Depends." Despite the weight of Jack's arm around me, I almost felt as if I was alone in that lift with Methos. The idea both terrified and excited me. I realised then that Jack had become quiescent at my side, though his arm was still a heavy, familiar warmth on my shoulders. He was watching us with half-lidded eyes, silent, waiting. What for, I never found out as the lift stopped and the doors opened.

Methos was the first through the doors, exiting without a backward glance. Jack slid his arm from around my shoulders, trailing his fingers down my spine and across my hip as he moved away, with a last brush of his fingertips over mine as he followed Methos. The message to me was clear. I hesitated for a moment; was I really ready for this? I wasn't entirely sure, but I sure as hell didn't ask myself if I really *wanted* it. Some things you don't question, especially not when the fire of obsession burns too hot within you to deny a fundamental truth. Of course I followed them.

"This way." It was almost a whisper, but the hand that Methos placed in the small of my back was shouting louder to me than anything he could say. Jack's fingers linked through his against me; guiding and being guided. Even fully clothed, even with my bloody coat on for God's sake, I could feel their hands burning into me, branding me. The feelings that simple touch produced were unbelievable. Alone, Jack could be overwhelming; this, Oh God, this was so far beyond overwhelming I had no words for it. And all we were doing was walking down a damn hotel corridor! If I'd had any doubts before they were being firmly chased from my mind with every step we took. I resolved to pay Methos back tenfold if I could, though I realised I would probably have to wait for the opportunity as there was no way I could summon the concentration and intensity required while I felt on the verge of shattering, body and mind. Their hands pressed into me, an unspoken promise, I smiled helplessly at them both.

Reaching the room at last was almost anti-climatic. Methos had to remove his hand to deal with opening the door, Jack moved his to my elbow with a reassuring squeeze. We trailed after Methos into dimness. The lights flicked on to reveal a good sized room with a large and comfortable bed and a lounge area as well as the usual desk and chair. I could hear Jack's grin as he spoke,

"At least you've got a decent sized bed."

"It was a pre-requisite," Methos replied quietly. I must have let out some sort of sound as they both looked at me with quizzical expressions.

"You planned this?" I asked in a strangled sounding voice. I don't know why I was so surprised. Maybe I thought the invitation had just been a spur of the moment thing, though I suppose if I'd spared a couple of seconds to think rather than just react I would have known otherwise.

"We hoped," Jack said gently.

"Both of us," added Methos.

"You know me too well," I said to Jack with a self depreciating shrug and a smile.

"He might; I don't." Methos stepped back toward us and placed his hands on my shoulders, his smile gentle. "I'm looking forward to changing that."

If I'd thought at that moment he'd take the opportunity to kiss me, I would have been disappointed. As I wasn't thinking at all, it never occurred to me; all I did was watch as he moved away. Not that he went far, he just shrugged carefully out of his coat and hung it up on one of the hooks behind the door. Jack's coat appeared on another. I stared at the two coats for a moment, or more accurately at the empty hook between them with the implications making my head ache and my heart pound. I slowly began to remove my own coat, only to almost have it slide from my shaking fingers; Jack prevented its fall and carefully hung it onto the waiting hook, with a smile of encouragement at me. I glanced over to where Methos was perched busy removing his boots, then back at Jack to find him doing the same while leaning against the wall. I found myself feeling rather glad that I was wearing shoes. Bootless, Jack made his way up to the desk, and cautiously placed his holstered webley close to the back, where it was unlikely to get accidentally knocked off. Unspeaking, he held out his hand. I handed over my gun without a second thought, but the holster was under my jacket and I couldn't remove it as easily; it felt like it was dragging me down, and I needed to be rid of it. I peeled off my jacket and hung it on the back of the chair to enable me to get rid of the unwelcome weight of the holster.

I was still watching Jack when a pair of unfamiliar arms snaked around me and Methos breathed in my ear

"That's a good start, though you're still wearing too many clothes." I was about to make some clever remark about the half a sheep he was wearing when I realised he was already stripped down to t-shirt and jeans, his feet bare. I ran my fingers across soft skin overlying hard muscle; feeling the strength hidden beneath, and the soft gasp of breath against my skin as I hit a sensitive spot. I filed that piece of information away for a time when I would be better able to make use of it, and smiled to myself; it stood to reason, an immortal lived by the strength of his arms in more ways than one. He turned me in his arms, and gazed into my face for a second.

"But he looks good in a suit..." That was Jack, moving up behind me. Methos glanced at him with a smile over my shoulder.

"And out of it?"

"Oh yeah." I had been about to protest that there was nothing wrong with my hearing and they could talk to me as well as about me, but my words were silenced before I'd done much more than draw breath by the press of Methos's mouth against my own. I'd been wondering for quite some time what being kissed by him would be like, and it wasn't what I'd expected. The touch of his lips was gentle, almost thoughtful, where I'd expected something more demanding. Perhaps he was trying to be careful. I deepened the kiss, needing more, and felt rather than heard his inarticulate moan in response. His hand crept up to cup the back of my head, his fingers pressing into me where they tangled in my hair. He pulled away from me briefly and searched my eyes, hands still buried in my hair. I felt careful fingers slip around my neck, loosen my tie and gently begin to undo the buttons on my shirt. His eyes flicked down to Jack's hands, busy with my clothes, and back to my face; I saw my own want and need mirrored there, but veiled with a hesitancy I hadn't expected, though I understood the reason for its presence.

"I won't break, you know." I whispered, my words echoed by a muffled sound from Jack, completely wordless, but still managing to say 'you'd better believe it'. I then endeavoured to prove it to Methos. I put everything I was into the kiss; all my pain, all my desire, all my envy, all my obsession, all my sheer need; I kissed him like I was a drowning man and he was my lifeline, plundering his mouth with a desperate fierceness I'm not sure he expected in an effort to imprint myself on his soul. He responded with the kind of violent intensity I'd been waiting for as our need to test each other outweighed our need for tenderness. My fingers were buried in his hair, savagely clutching his head so he couldn't move away from me; his were at my neck, hauling off my tie, continuing the job Jack had started on my shirt as we devoured each other. Jack was a supportive presence beside us, so close, and yet he could have been miles away for all the attention we were paying to him. I could feel his breath against my skin, almost as uneven and rapid as my own, and tried to imagine how I would feel if our positions had been reversed. The thought of watching Methos and Jack together destroyed any vestiges of rational thought I still possessed and I groaned as another surge of desire tore through me, leaving me trembling in its wake and perilously close to losing it right there and then. Methos backed off slightly and trailed his fingers down my exposed chest and I gasped into his mouth; his touch felt like fire dancing across my skin. His lips moved from mine to trace a path along my jaw and down my neck, pausing only to bite lightly at my collarbone as he pushed my shirt off my shoulders and down my arms, trapping them at my sides. I shuddered, eyes screwed shut, powerless to resist this new onslaught on my self control. A familiar hand cupped my face and I leaned into the caress, grateful for his strength.

"You still with us, Ianto?" Jack's voice was as gentle as his touch and I made the effort to meet his gaze with eyes that could barely see straight.

"Not...not for much longer..." I gasped. The analytical part of my brain registered that he was now shirtless, but couldn't manage more sense than that before it shut down completely in a haze of lust. Methos was now behind me, showering kisses and small bites over my shoulders and neck as he wrapped me in his arms, pressing himself against me. Jack fingers were busy with the fastening of my trousers as he whispered in my ear,

"Can't have you coming in your pants, can we?" I think I answered him, though it sounded suspiciously like gibberish to me, but he understood me well enough. He knelt in front of me and gently pushed the confining material away from my weeping cock, "Ianto..." my name was breathed out in a caress over skin that was almost too sensitive to stand it. I could barely stay upright, and if hadn't been for Methos's discomforting presence behind me as well as Jack's hands supporting my hips, I would have crumpled at the first touch of Jack's tongue on my aching hardness, never mind what he did to me when he took me into his mouth. My head thumped back against Methos's shoulder, and he curved an arm round my chest; supportive even as he assaulted me again with lips, teeth and tongue, swallowing my wordless shout as I came into the wet heat of Jack's demanding mouth.

They held me as I trembled with the aftershocks of my orgasm, no longer asking anything of me save that I stay with them; gentle voices murmuring soothing nonsense in my ears, whispering my name in a way I'd never heard before. Gradually my pounding heart slowed enough so that I felt I might survive after all.

Methos' arms were still tight around me when Jack leaned in to kiss him, no doubt with the taste of me still on his tongue. I must have made some sort of sound of protest as he broke the kiss sooner than I was expecting, and then kissed me too.

"Better?" He asked, eyes dancing; I knew the look too well.

"Much." I leaned into Methos, enjoying his wiry strength, and smiled at Jack. "However I seem to be a little tied up still..." They both *growled* at me, and then proceeded to rip off what clothes I was still wearing, chucking them any which way. I didn't spare a thought for them, even when a shoe hit the wall, as I had more important things to worry about, like whose mouth was going where. I abandoned myself to sensation, enjoying every minute of being the centre of their attention, loving the graze of teeth across my nipples, the gentle nips up and down my spine, the press of fingers into my flesh. When they paused for breath I was well on the way to turning into jelly again, but I still noticed one thing.

"Jack?"

"Mmm?"

"Why is this old guy still wearing his clothes?" Jack chuckled into my neck; he'd managed to lose the rest of his own clothes along the way, but neither of us had spared Methos the consideration to get him out of his. We remedied that without further ado, turning our attention to him. Jack dived for his jeans, I got to peel off the t-shirt, and get my own back for all the little bite marks that were littering my neck and back and shoulders. I'd seen myself in the mirror, and I wanted to leave those same marks of possession on them both. Jack steered us all closer to the bed, with soft kisses and touches and whispers of encouragement. It seemed he was content to step back slightly, to act as the gentle counterbalance to our brutal craving of each other and my need to be in some form of control. No doubt he would catch us both when we fell; in that, I trusted him completely. Suddenly, the bed was there, and Jack clambered on it to avoid being squashed. He half sat, half knelt on the bed, waiting for our next move with such an intense expression on his face that I wished he was still close enough to kiss.

I shoved Methos down onto the bed; he sat on the edge, staring up at me with hungry eyes, his hand in mine. I turned his hand over, rubbing small circles into his palm with my thumb, languidly caressing his long fingers with my own. I watched his tongue dart out, moistening his lips, but he never once took his eyes from mine, even when Jack's hands appeared on his shoulders, echoing the small movements I was making. I knelt before him, still holding his hand, pressing close against his legs, and gently lifted his hand to my lips. I retraced the path of thumb and fingers with lips and tongue; swirling my tongue in the palm of his hand, tenderly nibbling along the length of each finger before drawing it into my mouth, holding his gaze while I sucked gently on his fingers, challenging him silently to try and break away, watching him fail as his eyes darkened with desire. God, it felt good. I sucked harder, and watched his eyes drift shut as he lost himself in just *feeling*. Looking up, I met Jack's eyes and smiled around Methos' fingers. He smiled back, and if it was a bit shaky round the edges, well I could relate to that; I was feeling a bit shaky round the edges too. Not that feeling shaky would stop me; I was determined that nothing would stop me. I dropped my eyes and concentrated on Methos once more, following the path of a vein across the back of his hand with my tongue. There was a hiss of suddenly indrawn breath and the hand in mine twitched slightly. I assumed it was with pleasure as it was accompanied by an inarticulate moan that I recognised as Jack's. I followed the vein to the back of his wrist, and there I paused, taking a deep breath as a surge of need flooded through me; not just my need for him, but my need to prove that I knew and understood facets of his life that Jack never would, and that connected us. The scar on my own wrist throbbed beneath my watch strap in time with the beat of my blood, reminding me of all that it had meant to both me and the ancient, complex man whose skin was burning beneath my lips. I lifted my mouth away momentarily as I carefully turned his wrist around, cradling his hand in mine, exposing the inner surface of his wrist to my questing tongue. There was another gasp as I slowly began to trace the path of a circle that was no longer there on his unblemished skin. From that I knew his scar was still there as surely as mine was, it just couldn't be seen. I continued to map the shape of the tattoo that we both still bore on our souls with my tongue, it almost felt like an act of worship, or an act of desecration; probably both. I felt like I was cutting into him with the rasp of my tongue against his skin, it was unbelievably intimate; erotic; powerful. I think I moaned against his skin as I listened to his frantic breathing. There needed to be more, there had to be more, but the moment wasn't over yet and I didn't stop to think about what I was doing. I bit down into his skin, through the invisible scar, and tasted his blood. A second later I drew back, horrified by what I'd done, and desperate to do it again. He reeled back into Jack's arms, looking dazed and overwhelmed. Hell, Jack looked overwhelmed, and God only knows what I must have looked like with Methos' blood on my lips.

"Ianto..." Methos gasped my name as if he was acknowledging my power over him, or perhaps he was issuing a challenge. Or both. Shit. We were still clutching each others fingers, so I bent my head once more and tenderly licked the last smears of blood away from his unmarked skin before letting his hand fall. Chest heaving, I sat back and stared. Jack held Methos cradled in his arms, while his lips were buried in his hair, murmuring unintelligible endearments. He was watching me, and his eyes bid me closer even though he didn't utter a word to me. I could never refuse a direct command from Jack, verbal or otherwise, so I scrambled up on the bed to join them.

I settled next to them, welcomed by a hot and hungry kiss from Jack, who whispered,

"What did you *do* to him?" Trembling, I undid my watch, leaving the circular scar on my wrist naked and unhidden.

"Reminded him of this..." The s hissed through my teeth as Methos stole my breath just by having one finger trail around the scar; I whimpered when his mouth followed, making my cock jump in response, and bit my lip at the challenge in his eyes. The touch of his lips against that scar was like throwing down a gauntlet; daring me to take more, daring me to take everything. The expression in his eyes hinted that he wasn't sure if I could. I met them stare for stare, answering the unspoken challenge with nothing more than a quirk of a smile and felt his lips curve in response against my skin. There was a small sound from Jack, not quite a moan, not quite a sob. He probably recognised the expression on my face; after all it was usually him on the receiving end. His hand was in my hair, dragging my face round toward his own so he could plunder my mouth hungrily. I moaned helplessly into the kiss as Methos nipped delicately at my wrist. Jack and I broke apart, panting and Methos obligingly stopped savaging my skin; I could tell I would have a bruise there to remind me of tonight, and found myself relishing that. For an infinite moment we sat; still, silent. The only sound was our laboured breathing, though I felt that they should have been able to hear the pounding of my heart and the desire singing through my blood. Jack stared at us both, one hand cupping my face, the other resting gently against Methos' neck, who trembled slightly at the touch. His eyes drifted shut for a moment and he took a deep breath, expelling it in a rush. He removed his hands from us. I couldn't believe how bereft that made me feel, despite the hot press of Methos' fingers against my own. His hand returned to tilt my chin up so I was looking in his eyes, and he kissed me again, with tenderness rather than unbridled passion, brushing a thumb across my swollen lips.

"God, Ianto. You look good enough to eat."

"Then why..." I trailed off, puzzled by the near imperceptible shake of his head and gentle smile on his face.

"Maybe later. Right now I..." He turned to meet Methos' eyes, obviously asking a question I couldn't perceive as he was given a slight nod in answer. He turned back to me. "Right now I want you to take what you need." He reached behind him, searching for something. I was too busy drowning in the unfathomable expression in his eyes to pay much attention until he pressed the familiar weight of a bottle of lube into my hand. My eyes dropped to glance at the lube, then shifted to gaze at Methos with a hunger I couldn't deny before returning to Jack, still questioning. He curled my fingers around the bottle. "What *you* need," he reiterated, "All of it." I darted another hungry glance at Methos, licked dry lips. "I'm not going anywhere." Jack whispered, "I need this too." He had my full attention then, as I searched his face for the true meaning of his words. I think I understood; we were usually so careful of each other, albeit not always physically, he had as much need to see me lose that as I needed to do it, even if it wasn't with him. I lunged in for a quick but intense kiss before turning my attention solely to Methos. I put the lube to one side, I wasn't ready for it *just* then; a bloody lie of course, my body was more than ready for me to dive straight in and fuck us both senseless, but *I* wanted more from Methos before I took that final step. I let the fingers of one hand trail down his face, brushing the contours of cheekbone and jaw.

"Anything I want." I whispered, naked lust warring with god only knows what other emotions inside me. "Everything I need..." Methos captured my hand, holding it against his face.

"Think you can handle it?" His voice was pitched low, intense; full of promises and threats. I met his eyes.

"I can; can you?" Bit of a stupid bloody question to ask, I suppose. This was Methos: Methos, for fuck's sake; the oldest living man on earth; Death. Of course he could handle a 20-something non-immortal Welsh guy. Pity my brain was unable to tell me this... I didn't care about stupid; my lust, my need, my obsession had driven me way beyond sense and Jack's burning presence only fuelled that internal fire. Methos just smiled up at me; predatory, challenging. I took possession of that smile and wiped it off his face with my lips and teeth and tongue. Battle was joined.

There was a strange sort of tenderness in the ferocity with which we attacked each other. Nothing gentle, no; but it was sweeter and more intoxicating than any drug. The taste of his skin, the feel of it against my teeth, under relentless fingers; biting, scratching, claiming my own piece of Methos, marking him as my territory for this brief moment of eternity. He was my dark mirror, letting me see my inner shadows without fear, turning them into something magnificent, primal and *raw*, acknowledging them as part of me, forcing me to do the same. For the first time in my life, I accepted that part of me without trying to deny it, and let it have free rein; knowing that the beautiful man beneath me shone bright despite an inner darkness that no-one living would be able to truly comprehend in its entirety. My world had narrowed to encompass only him as each sound he made in response to my touch bared my soul just that little bit more. It had never been like this; *I* had never been like this and it scared me, even while I gloried in the power of it. The press of the lube bottle against my fingers brought me back to reality momentarily, until I registered that it was Methos pressing it into my hand. I blinked, stared down at him. His eyes were black, lips swollen and sweat beaded his forehead. He looked gorgeous, and eminently fuckable; it was such a rush knowing that I'd done that to him. I let my fingers curl around the bottle as I stared at him. He stared back.

"Everything. Now." His voice was low, and more than a little rough, but I needed no further urging, or explanation.

"Now." I agreed. Methos let his head fall back with a gasp, breaking eye contact. It was only then that I realised that his head was pillowed against Jack's leg. I raised my eyes to Jack's, needing to reconnect however briefly. He was breathing nearly as heavily as me.

"Now..." He whispered. I needed no further urging, and I lost myself in Methos once more as I settled between his legs. The lube felt shockingly cold on my fingers at first, but had warmed to skin temperature by the time I was stroking the slick stuff into Methos. He pressed back against my fingers with an incoherent mumble, demanding rather than begging for more. I was only too happy to oblige, curling my fingers inside him just to see him writhe against me. It was incredible, but it wasn't enough; we both wanted, needed more. He made a small sound as my fingers left him and we echoed each other's moans as I pressed my lube-slick cock into his body. I paused for a moment, acclimatising to the sensation of being buried deep in Methos, being surrounded by his incredible heat. He wrapped his legs around me and pulled me deeper. I took the hint, leaning forward to kiss him as I thrust into him. Hard. If he wanted me hard and fast, he would get me hard and fast. I found myself feeling grateful toward Jack's earlier attention, without it I would never have got this far without losing control completely and ending this before it had even begun. As it was, I still wasn't going to be breaking any records for duration. I didn't care; passion was far more important than performance, and passion was something I had in spades. I growled into his neck, trying to tell Methos what he was doing to me as he thrust back against my cock, trembling, extending his neck in a wordless invitation. Needless to say, I accepted that invitation whole heartedly, worrying at his neck as I pounded into his body. I felt him tense around me and knew he was close so I sent him over the edge, burying my teeth in his neck as I buried my cock in his arse. He came with a choked-off scream; it was the most beautiful sound in the world. He was 5000 years old and I had made him scream. Fuck. I raised myself up on my arms, the better to see him as I came, and found myself captured by Jack's gaze. One look from him and I lost it, Jack's name on my lips as I emptied myself into Methos; a twisted symmetry, and absolutely perfect. Jack caught me as I collapsed bonelessly, guiding my fall so I lay beside Methos and not on top of him. Methos and I clung to each other, shivering in the aftermath of our release, only half aware of the gentle touches and soft murmurs that Jack showered on us both. The comforting warmth of a blanket covered us and I let myself drift; wrung out, sated, and complete. If there was more to be had from the night, it could wait until I was ready to meet it.

The stir of movement close to me brought me completely back to myself. Jack had flung an arm around me, cradling me against his chest while Methos had shifted, propping himself up on an elbow. He looked at us both with a faint smile; there was nothing predatory about this one, it was full of sweetness and warmth. I smiled back happily, leaning into the comfort of Jack's skin next to mine. Methos reached out a finger and traced the curve of my lips; I kissed it, but didn't try for anything more. I didn't have the energy. I might have had youth on my side, but there was no way I was ready for another round like the first; or even one unlike the first. My brain still felt like it had been replaced with cotton-wool, and my skin felt too tight, as if it could barely contain me.

"Maybe we did break you," Jack said with a hint of laughter threading through his words as he held me close.

"Not broken. Just... recharging," I croaked. My voice sounded as raw as my throat felt. Methos leaned in for a kiss, one for me, one for Jack before struggling off the bed. I noticed, with a twinge of disappointment, that the bites and scratches were already faded to almost nothing. It felt strange to have myself confronted with so intimate a reminder of immortal healing. Jack's arm tightened around me.

"You have more than enough for two," he whispered in my ear. "Good job you wear a suit; can you imagine Tosh's reaction?"

"Or Gwen's?" I answered, chuckling. "Or even worse..."

"Owen's!" That was said in unison, with equal amounts of disbelief and amused horror from the both of us.

"I am so not going there," Jack said as snorted his opinion of Owen's reaction into the back of my neck. It felt surprisingly good.

The bed dipped as Methos sat back down. He passed me a bottle of water, which I took gratefully, letting the cool liquid soothe my parched throat. I handed it to Jack once I'd had enough, and relaxed once more, letting my eyes close. I was surprised by the feel of a damp cloth against my still-sticky chest and stomach; I opened my eyes again to find Methos carefully wiping my skin clean. It seemed to need a lot of cleaning. He grinned at my slightly bemused expression.

"That's not just mine," he said matter of factly.

"Ah," I said intelligently, squirming slightly so I could catch Jack's eye. He was grinning, but his eyes spoke of affection and spent lust.

"Did you really think I wouldn't get off on watching you two fuck each other senseless?" Methos ducked his head, hiding a grin of his own I was sure.

"Umm, I suppose not," I muttered. I wished I could have been a fly on the wall; watching him watching us. Once a Watcher; always a Watcher... The image stirred something deep within me and the dormant knot of desire uncoiled faintly in my belly, reminding me that the night was still young as it crawled, phoenix-like, back into the light. I wriggled a little more so I could free my arms, and pulled Jack into a kiss. Methos had just about finished cleaning me up; he paused, let his fingers brush the skin across my hip, and chuckled softly, presumably at the way I couldn't help but quiver under his touch.

"Definitely not broken," he said. I couldn't comment as my mouth was too busy, and I couldn't see him as my eyes were closed; even so, I could still hear the grin in his voice as his presence disappeared from my side once more. He soon returned and proceeded to turn me very slowly and very thoroughly into complete mush, enthusiastically aided and abetted by Jack. Methos had started with feather-light kisses, barely touching my skin in some places, gentling a sore spot with careful swipes of his tongue in others. I belatedly realised he was retracing his path across my skin, revisiting every bite and bruise he had made on me and I wasn't sure whether I wanted to laugh or cry or scream with the intensity of it. His focused gentleness was as arousing as our barely leashed passion had been, and just as uncomfortable to deal with.

"Are you kissing me better?" I was pleased that my voice didn't come out as a squeak or a croak, no matter that it felt like it should have. His mouth left my skin.

"Maybe. Do you need me to?" The soft puff of his breath across my kiss-dampened skin almost made me shiver.

"What do you think?" It came out more harshly than I meant it to. Jack raised his head and smiled at Methos.

"That's a yes, by the way. He gets cranky when you push at him while his barriers are down."

"Cranky?" I spluttered.

"Cranky," he reiterated, before silencing me with another kiss. It was the last thing any of us said for a while.

Methos and Jack danced over my body with fingers and mouths until my skin tingled at their touch, as if it were electricity passing over my skin. They interspersed their attentions with little kisses and touches of each other, always with a hand or pair of lips remaining in contact with me, often with their fingers entwined so they both were touching me as they kissed. I thought I was imagining things when I felt the first faint spark between them where their fingers rested on my skin. My eyes flew open with shock and I realised that it was lighter in the room than it should be. High on their presence and what they'd been doing to me, it took me a second to realise that it was coming from Jack. I yelped as another spark crackled between them. They broke apart, panting, and stared at me with identical expressions of puzzled concern on their faces. The glow began to subside. I think I was on the verge of hyperventilating as Jack carded his fingers through my hair and Methos carefully stroked my shoulder. It was Methos who broke the silence.

"You shouldn't have been able to feel that. Sorry if we frightened you."

"Its... it's Ok." My pounding heart slowed, and my brain engaged. "Shouldn't have been able to feel... are you telling me I just felt your Quickening?" Methos nodded.

"Some of it."

"Fuck." I was completely and utterly gobsmacked; it should have been impossible. "How? I'm mortal."

"You'll have to ask light-bulb man that one," he said, indicating Jack. Then I remembered; I'd not seen it myself as I'd been far too wrapped up in Lisa at that time, but Tosh had told me all about Carys and Jack's 'kiss of life'. She'd definitely mentioned glowing. Had he done that to me? Memories of his mouth on mine; me gasping for breath and the hub in lockdown rose to the surface, as did the even more painful memory of what preceded it; Lisa hurling me across the Hub like a broken and discarded toy. I've never been able to remember hitting the ground. My heart started pounding again, and not in a good way. Arms folded around me; comforting, lending me strength. Jack cupped my face in his hands, dropped a chaste kiss on my nose, smoothed the hair at the back of my neck and whispered,

"You were hardly breathing when I reached you. I had no idea how badly injured you were and I had to do *something*. Sharing some of my life with you was the only thing I could do. And it worked. You're here aren't you?" And Lisa wasn't. The ghost of what Lisa had become threatened to come between us; I wouldn't let it, scrunching my eyes closed and focusing, focusing until all sense of her drifted away. I'd said goodbye to *my* Lisa; the one who had nearly killed me, and *had* killed Jack, albeit temporarily, was not the woman I'd loved.

"Yeah, I'm here." I murmured. I opened my eyes again, and met Jack's once more. He was only inches away from me, gazing worriedly into my face. I smiled at him, a bit shakily maybe, but it was still a smile. "Light-bulb man? It's different, I suppose. You going to start wearing your underwear outside your trousers now?" Jack chuckled softly in response, I continued "And is that why?..." Methos interrupted, his arms tightening just a bit.

"It's the only thing that makes sense. If you're still carrying a little piece of Jack's life around inside you, then I can touch that part of you like I can touch him, even though you won't get quite the same reaction."

"If that was just a small part of what Jack can feel, then I'm bloody glad I can't."

"Believe me," said Jack, "It can be a very... umm... interesting sensation."

"I can imagine." I replied drolly.

"Can you?" Methos' voice was muffled against my neck as he gently kissed me, only it wasn't just a kiss that he pressed against my skin. Even though I was half expecting it, the almost electric tingle unnerved me, warring with the sensation of flesh against flesh, spreading tendrils of fire through my already fried nerves. It eventually stopped, leaving me gasping; and that had only been a kiss. I blinked furiously for a second, trying to bring Jack back into focus with dazed eyes; he was smiling.

"Better than imagination?" He asked, brushing my lips with his thumb as he cradled my chin with his fingers. I nodded slightly, knowing he would feel it even if he didn't see it. "Could you cope with more?" That was said as he flicked a glance at Methos behind me. I swallowed, suddenly nervous. The idea of letting them touch me in ways I had no chance of reciprocating was intimidating; I wouldn't be able to exert any control over what I was feeling, apart from using the obvious approach of asking for more or asking them to stop. I took a deep breath; not so different from normal, then. I let myself melt into the dual embrace, Jack knew me well enough by now that he would pick up on any signs of distress and I trusted him implicitly to act on that. I was in as safe a situation for trying something new and, to me, vaguely dangerous as I ever would be.

"I think so... I want..." I shook my head in irritation with myself, unable to find the words. "I don't know *what* I want."

"Then it's our job to find out..." Methos murmured as he leaned in for a kiss.

 

It seemed that what I wanted was to be turned into mush again, as that's what they did in short order. I had no chance of resisting even if I'd wanted to; Jack knew my body and its responses too well and seemed to take great delight in showing Methos every single one of them. Add to that the anticipation of never knowing quite when Methos would put something *more* into his touch, be it lips or fingers, and I was hyper-aware of every inch of my skin. More than once I though I was going to come without them even touching my cock, but they backed off at the critical moment each time leaving me gasping as they ignored me in favour of each other. Even that was almost too much to bear; watching Methos lose himself in Jack's reactions as he anchored him in the here and now, making him forget Torchwood and the Doctor and his unwanted immortality was enough to make me whimper. Especially with Jack wearing his 'fuck-me' face. I didn't know what I wanted more; to watch them, to have them, to let them have me. I was not used to thinking in terms of the needs of three people and trying to was making me drown in a haze of lust; wanting Methos, needing Jack. Jack must have seen that in my face as the next thing he was sprawled over me, kissing me like he wanted to touch the very depths of my soul, leaving streaks of wetness on my belly as he ground his cock into mine, distracting me from wondering where Methos was until he moaned into the kiss, breaking it as he backed off, shoving his hips backward, his face still only inches from mine. Definitely his fuck-me face. Presumably, Methos then added another finger as Jack keened and closed his eyes, flinging his head back and exposing his throat. God, I loved that sound. He then collapsed back against me, and Methos carefully rolled us till we were on our sides, facing each other.

"All yours now," he announced.

"Wha..?" Jack was barely coherent, but he'd asked what I wanted to know. Methos leaned over, one hand caressing my hip, and licked a droplet of sweat away from Jack's cheek. He looked sidelong at me, and grinned.

"Ianto sandwich," was all he said. Jack and I moaned in perfect harmony. "But first..." Methos slicked my already weeping cock with lube, and settled us into a position where one determined thrust on my part would bury me in Jack's arse. I'm nothing if not determined, and I didn't need any further encouragement to something we both wanted desperately. Sheathed completely in Jack, surrounded by his warmth I usually wouldn't have been able to hold myself back, but I paused, waiting. Within seconds I was rewarded by the feel of Methos' tongue teasing at my own opening as he fondled the cheeks of my arse. I tried to hold as still as possible, but I couldn't help my hips from moving. Jack and I were both whimpering now, clinging frantically onto each other as Methos drove us both to distraction. At last he gave me something to thrust against by pressing slick fingers inside me, making me moan as he twisted them just *so*. My body instinctively knew what to do; forward to bury myself in Jack, backward onto those clever fingers inside me, that *still* weren't quite enough.

"Hurry *up* old man, or we'll leave without you." Jack ground out, his breath rasping in my ears. I don't know where he dragged up the self-possession to be able to speak; I couldn't, and didn't even try. Methos chuckled, and swooped in for a lightning fast kiss before removing his fingers with one last twist and the merest tingle of electricity that nevertheless shot straight from my arse to my brain and shut all higher functions down even more completely than they already had been. Before I had the chance to feel empty from his lack, he was there; plunging into me until he was as deep in me as I was in Jack. Slowly we began to move. I was filled, and yet still fulfilling; something so complete, so intense, that it transcended mere sensation and threatened to overload my already strained senses. Methos controlled our pace, every thrust into me driving me deeper into Jack. As his breath sobbed in my ear, and I shared mine with Jack, I knew I couldn't stay with them for much longer no matter what I thought I wanted.

"I can't..." I barely recognised my own voice; it grated, breathless, on my ears. Pretty much how I felt, in fact.

"Then don't."

"Come for us, Ianto." I have no idea which one of them whispered those words, but hearing my name undid me, and I hurtled over the edge, shaking and screaming and crying until I had nothing left to give. I was barely aware of the rush of warmth inside me and against me as their voices joined mine in the notes of a song as old as time itself.

This time I think they had broken me. I was drifting in a haze of warmth, their arms heavy around me, fingers gentle on my face and chest. There was a buzzing in my ears; I tried to shake my head to make it go away, but nothing seemed to work right and the buzzing became more insistent. Gradually the buzzing resolved into something more recognisable.

"Ianto. Ianto. Open your eyes for us. Ianto...Ianto!" My first bleary though was that I wished this Ianto person would bloody well hurry up and do what they said so I could continue drifting in my comfortable fog. Then I realised that I was Ianto and should probably try to let them know I was still with them. I pried my eyelids open, but couldn't focus, and managed to say something that sounded like,

"Unghngh." It was too much effort and I let my eyes close again. I was hugged fiercely from 2 sides, and I snuggled into their arms feeling warm and happy and safe. I could feel myself losing the battle to maintain any hold on reality no matter how precarious, but I honestly couldn't care less; I hadn't felt this good, or this happy in my skin, for years. I slowly drifted back down into the comforting darkness that waited for me.

 

I've no idea how much time had passed before I clawed my way back to awareness again. I lay there for a moment, eyes still closed, taking stock of what and who was around me before even trying to open my eyes. Someone was snuggled up against my back, breathing gently; he didn't sound or feel like Jack. I stretched my awareness a little more; there was a noise that sounded suspiciously like typing close by. I cracked open one eyelid, expecting to be assailed with the pain of too-bright light but it was comfortingly dim. I must have made some sound or movement as the typing stopped, and a familiar hand stroked my face.

"Hi there," whispered Jack. His skin smelled clean and faintly of soap, the same scent I'd caught a hint of from Methos, no doubt provided by the hotel.

"How long?" I asked, opening my other eye, and managing to bring Jack and his smile into focus.

"Couple of hours I think; haven't exactly been counting." He set aside the laptop he was using; Methos' I presumed as neither of us had brought ours from The Hub. "You Ok?" I catalogued the way I was feeling, took into account all the aches, pains and little discomforts and came up with a resounding positive.

"More than ok," I smiled, "But I really need a shower. And a drink." My mouth and throat felt like I'd been gargling sawdust. Jack shifted to let me scramble past, but didn't move out of the bed. Our eyes rested for a moment on Methos, still sleeping, but becoming more agitated as tried to cuddle into a body that was no longer there; nothing else needed to be said. Jack scooted closer to Methos, wrapping him in his arms to settle him back down as I stumbled on wobbly legs to see to my purely physical needs. I found the water bottle had been put back in the fridge and I glugged it down gratefully; water had never tasted so good, maybe Jack had a point. There was cold pizza too, and I grabbed a piece to munch on in the hope of quieting the rumble of my stomach as I headed to the bathroom.

The shower was easily big enough for three, and I found myself grinning, sure that Jack and Methos had probably made very good use of it while I'd been dead to the world. Or maybe not, as Methos seemed pretty wiped out too. I felt the grin softening into something warmer as I brought up the picture of him snuggling into Jack with a small but contented smile on his face, still fast asleep. I never would have pegged Methos as a snuggler, and it gave him a startling air of vulnerability particularly as he was so self-possessed when awake. I had to remind myself that the fragile looking man was actually 5000 years old and not fragile in the least, but I was kind of half-hearted about it. The shower seemed too empty for one as I switched on the water and let it beat down on my head. The water stung in some of the abrasions on my skin, highlighting areas that I hadn't been aware had any; I was very careful with the soap after that, not wanting to make them hurt any more than they already did. Once I'd dried off, I carefully examined myself in the mirror. Jack had been right when he said I had more than enough marks for two people; I had a lovely collection of bites and scratches and places where fingers had dug into me too hard. I was vaguely amused that I could actually tell the differences in the bruises left by Jack and Methos, but then the shape and feel of Jack's hands were very familiar to me no matter where they were. I was going to have to avoid Tosh and Gwen for the next couple of days; a hug in the wrong place from either of them would make me jump a mile, and then I would have to suffer the knowing glances they'd give me afterward. I didn't want that; I wanted to keep this... thing... between the three of us as private as possible until I knew how to deal with it better. It was alright for Jack and Methos, they'd both pretty much seen and done everything I could possibly think of and more than likely a ridiculous number of things I couldn't, but this was new for me; terrible and wonderful in all its frail beauty. I leaned against the wall, shaking, as the realisation hit me; I didn't want it to stop here, just an experiment for one night, I wanted more. How the hell that was going to work I had no idea; I had my own relationship with Jack, he had his with Methos and what the three of us would have together was something we'd only find out with time. I hoped with desperation that I would have that time. I scrubbed my hands across my damp face, realising that I was gasping for breath again. Somewhere along the way tonight I'd lost my impassivity, not a bad thing in itself, but when I needed to shelter behind it, it was gone, scattered like dust on the wind. I calmed myself as best as I could before stepping out of the bathroom once more.

I'm sure Jack had more than an inkling of my unease, but he said nothing and did nothing apart from encourage me to get back into bed with a wordless invitation to burrow into his other side. I don't turn down invitations from Jack so I let the towel fall and settled in next to him. Listening to his slow, steady heartbeat as one of his arms cradled me gently was soothing and I felt myself approaching sleep once more. I let a hand creep out until I encountered one of Methos' resting on Jack's chest, and tangled my fingers with his. The last things I remember before sleep claimed me once more were the steady thunder of Jack's heart, and the faint squeeze of Methos' fingers.

I'd barely changed position when I woke again. Jack nuzzled my hair, tightening his arm around me.

"You're awake early," he mumbled through a mouthful of hair.

"I'm always awake early." I was too, and surprisingly that morning I was wide awake, and completely refreshed. Jack and Methos were obviously good for me.

"Unlike some people." Jack commented. Methos was still asleep, sprawled half on his back with one arm flung out and the other tucked around his neck as if he were trying to protect it. For some reason that hurt, but I brushed the feeling away. I'm sure if he'd felt at all threatened he wouldn't have been sleeping so peacefully, and certainly would have already woken up. "Maybe we should give him a little... encouragement." Jack didn't need a verbal answer from me as a certain part of my anatomy let him know just how much I agreed with him. I ground myself into his side in case he'd managed to miss the reaction. "Like that idea, do you?" He chuckled.

"Mmm," I agreed, burying my nose in his shoulder and licking his collarbone.

"Then get off me, and help me kiss Sleeping Beauty awake." I cheerfully complied, slithering off him and shifting down the bed, waiting for Jack to make the first move. That wasn't out of politeness' sake, but self-preservation; Jack was more familiar to Methos and so less likely to cause an adverse reaction by waking him suddenly. Methos might not have taken the Ivanhoe broadsword to bed with him, but he was likely to be just as lethal without it. Jack could afford to take that risk; I couldn't. I stayed out of harm's way while I watched Jack gently blow on Methos's cheek. Before he could follow that up with anything else, Methos shot out a hand, grabbed Jack by the wrist and pulled him in for a bruising kiss; all without opening his eyes. Either Jack knew the quickest way to wake him, or Methos hadn't been as deeply asleep as we'd thought. He opened his eyes as he released Jack, and looked straight at me.

"How am I supposed to kiss you when you're all the way over there?" He asked. I shoved Jack out of the way in my haste to get to get to Methos, and he promptly shoved me back. It then degenerated into a free-for-all with us pushing and shoving at each other like children, while trying to steal kisses from whichever person was nearest. It was silly and beautiful and really great fun; until I got distracted by Methos's rigid cock waving around in front of my nose. At that point it stopped being silly. Tentatively I darted my tongue out to taste him, and I couldn't have wished for a more immediate reaction; complete and utter stillness. I edged a bit closer, and engulfed him in my mouth, gently wrapping a hand around him to keep him as motionless as possible. I *like* giving head; hell, I like oral sex no matter what the gender of person it involves, and I have been told that I'm rather good at it. I can't confirm or deny that as I'm not *that* flexible, despite yoga classes when I was still with Torchwood One, but judging by the response I was getting from Methos with every suck and lick and nibble, I wasn't going to be getting any complaints. I felt Jack nudge my arm with one of his feet, and cheerfully ignored him. I realised it was on purpose when he did it again, so without stopping what I was doing to Methos with my mouth, I held out a hand, ready. The lube was pleasantly cool on my fingers, and I let them wander down over the sensitive skin at the base of his cock, his perineum, and only then did I rub them across his hole. He jerked in my mouth, despite my restraining hand, and his moans sounded like they were being smothered by Jack's lips. I shifted, trying to make myself more comfortable; the noise Methos was making and the shivers of need that were running through him were more than enough to distract me with my own surging desire. I clamped down on it, resolutely trying to think of tourist information leaflets and security codes rather than what I wanted to do to Methos. Or what I wanted Jack to do to Methos. I eased my fingers inside him; no matter what, he was going to get fucked and I wanted to see how close I could bring him with hands and mouth. We were both enjoying ourselves until Jack told me to back off, his voice harsh and breathless;

"Stop." I stopped, raised my head and stilled my fingers inside Methos. He made a small sound of protest. Jack gazed down at him with a smile full of hunger, before looking at me, chest heaving. "Move?" How he managed to phrase one word as both a demand and a question I had no idea, but I moved, carefully withdrawing my fingers from Methos' body. Skin slid across skin as positions were changed, kisses given, caresses shared until Jack had Methos right where he wanted him; hips almost in his lap, back pressed into the mattress. It left him exposed for me, while Jack could take what he needed. I almost held my breath as I watched Jack slowly and carefully push into Methos; it was difficult not to imagine myself in the same position especially as my own cock was achingly hard and weeping. I didn't move to take Methos back into my mouth immediately; I wanted to watch Jack fuck him, to see Methos respond as Jack buried himself deeper into him with every languorous thrust. It was tempting just to stay there and bring myself off watching them, and if I hadn't wanted to taste Methos for myself, I might have done. Jack met my eyes with a savage grin as I wavered indecisively; we understood each other perfectly. "Suck him, Ianto... Make him come," he ground out. For some reason I still hesitated, until I heard a soft and breathy word from Methos that I'd never expected to;

"Please..." That, I couldn't ignore; I slithered down his body to oblige, deciding not to bother teasing him further as I wrapped my lips around his cock once more. Jack continued to take things slowly, allowing me to adjust to their rhythm and movement, gradually picking up the pace. My still slick fingers worked their way over Methos' balls, across his skin until I could feel the connection between them; all three of us shuddered in response. It was so *intimate* feeling Jack plunge into Methos while I had my mouth wrapped around Methos' cock; I reached for more, cautiously, with the gentle press of a finger; stretching Methos just that little bit wider. Their reaction was all I could have wished for, though I had to hastily move my fingers in the instant before Jack slammed into Methos as hard as he could, forcing him deeper into my mouth and throat. I didn't ease up, even when Jack paused, knowing that Methos was right on the brink; another suck, another swallow and he was spurting into my mouth with a wordless howl of release, one hand tight in my hair, though that slipped down my neck and shoulder as he lost control. I sat up, breathing heavily, and reached out for Jack, my hand curling around his head, bringing him close enough for me to kiss, to share the taste of Methos on my tongue. He groaned into the kiss, but didn't protest as I moved away to hold Methos close as he trembled through the aftershocks of his orgasm. His mouth was soft and yielding under mine as I plundered it with my own and he seemed to welcome the taste of himself in our kisses. What I didn't expect was his hand on my cock and the sudden lightning like tingle in his fingers, lips and tongue. What was left of my self control shattered into pieces under that onslaught, and I exploded in his hand as he captured my scream of release with his mouth. I didn't get to see Jack come, which part of me was disappointed about, though I really didn't care at that point. We collapsed in a hot and sticky tangle, still gasping for breath and hanging for dear life onto each other as if we would all fall apart if we didn't.

It seemed to take forever, but eventually my heart ceased its pounding and I could breathe well enough to speak. I leaned over to kiss Methos on his forehead, and tangled my fingers in his hair.

"You are an evil old man," I said. He flicked a glance at Jack and grinned at me.

"So I've been told," he replied.

"Just once or twice!" Jack added, chuckling. Then we all jumped as the alarm started beeping insistently and Jack scrambled to switch it off. "I think that's our cue for the shower; some of us have work to do today. Last one in gets tickled..." Methos and Jack dashed for the bathroom, I followed more sedately; I rather like being tickled and Jack knew it. Smug bastard. The shower that had seemed so huge and empty with just me in it was pleasantly crowded with the three of us. I did get tickled, but not as much as I thought I might. And even with the fooling around we all managed to get clean, though I had to slap Jack's wandering hands away on more than one occasion; I really didn't have time to get distracted again. I emerged first, and once I was dry there was still no sign of the other two. I banged on the side of the now steamed up shower cubicle.

"Stop it, you two. We'll be late." Jack stuck his head out of the shower, grinning fit to split his face.

"I'm your boss, I can't be late." He reached out a wet arm to drag me back in, I dodged it with a smile of my own.

"Maybe not, but some of us don't live with our jobs."

"He has a point." I couldn't see Methos properly through the clouds of steam, but his voice was clear.

"Methos!" Jack stumbled out of the shower, presumably having been pushed. I handed him a towel as he dripped all over the floor, gaping like a stranded fish.

"You might find this useful, sir." I said before retreating to the relative safety of the bedroom.

It took me a while to find all my clothes. I hadn't been watching when they were flung off me last night, and some of them had ended up in positions that I could have sworn were impossible. I became aware of being watched partway through the clothes hunt, but I didn't stop. Arms full of discarded clothes, I turned to face Jack where he was leaning on the frame of the door to the bathroom, still bollock naked and making no effort to be otherwise. I raised an eyebrow. He grinned.

"Just enjoying the show." I couldn't help but grin back, he was so happy in his skin.

"Work?" I reminded him. He grumbled, but went off to find his own clothes, ignoring the muffled laughter from Methos; he at least had managed to get some of his on and was in the process of wrestling with his jumper. I managed to struggle into my own clothes without further distractions. The shirt would never be the same again, but everything else had survived fairly unscathed, and more importantly, covered up all the evidence of a night well spent. I wouldn't be taking my tie off in work for a while, or rolling up my sleeves, and my wrist was tender enough that I couldn't even put my watch back on; I counted every discomfort worth it, at least they would help to remind me. And there lay the problem; I didn't want to walk out of that room not knowing where I stood, unsure if I could look forward to more. I shrugged back into my holster, the weight of it feeling more than a little symbolic, and found myself staring at the gun in my hands, with 'Torchwood' etched into the barrel; it slid into place in the holster, sounding very final. A pair of warm hands settled onto my shoulders; Methos; I recognised his touch bone deep now.

"Will you be coming back with Jack tonight?" He asked, tentatively. I whirled round, his hands falling from my shoulders as I did so.

"Tonight?" A flood of conflicting emotions ran through me; hope, anger, joy, guilt. I'm sure every single one of them was reflected in my face as I still hadn't found that impassivity I'd misplaced.

"You mean we didn't tell you?" I shook my head, too choked to say anything and raised my eyes to meet his. "Shit." He actually said a hell of a lot more than that as he turned away, but I didn't understand most of it. He stomped away from me giving Jack daggers. Jack's face was a picture, and almost enough to let me forgive him.

"Sorry?" He offered, moving close enough to put an arm around me. I leaned into the embrace, feeling a lot happier with the world than I had a few minutes before.

"Apology accepted," I said magnanimously. A smile crept onto my face. "Neither of you could help it, after all; short term memory loss is known to increase with age..." And that was all it needed. The miasma of uncertainty and recrimination that been lurking in the room was swept away on a tide of ancient laughter, one of the most beautiful sounds I've ever heard; and one of the most beautiful sights, too. I joined in whole heartedly.

"Can I go in the middle this time?" Jack asked plaintively when we'd just about got ourselves under control, looking so sheepish he set us all off again. Needless to say, I ended up being late for work. Funnily enough, I didn't care; not one little bit.


End file.
